Once Upon a Rewrite: PURE HUMOR PARODY
by eleven19
Summary: DON'T TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY! This is basically me rewriting the show from 3.15. Follows the story in only the loosest way. Everyone is funny (hopefully), personalities are altered, multiple POV's, and the fourth wall is NONEXISTENT (they actually reference specific episodes). And while I am quite a shipper (SF),I do mock shipping in general. I DON'T OWN ANYTHING, AND PLEASE REVIEW!
1. Chapter 1

The familiar surge of electricity that always accompanied magic burned through her veins. She gripped Neal's hands tighter. Rumple's voice echoed in her head: _Stop thinking. Magic is about emotion._ She breathed in deeply. _Okay….feeling….feeling…feeling…._

"Is anything happening yet?" she asked, her eyes still tightly shut.

"Um….No. No, we're pretty much doing some intense hand-holding," Neal said. He gave her hands a little shake. "This is nice, huh? We should hold hands more."

"Mmm," she said, trying to concentrate.

"You know what kind of people hold hands a lot? Couples."

"Neal, can we do this later?"

"Yeah, sure. Shutting up. You got it."

"Thank you." Emma took another deep breath, trying to summon her magic. She pictured a magnifying glass held up to the sun, focusing the powerful beams of light and energy through a tiny vortex—

"Must be hard to hold hands with people who've just got the one."

"What?" Emma opened her eyes. Neal raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"What?"

"What are you….? You know what, I don't have time for this," she sighed. "I have to figure this out."

"Look, why don't we just ask Regina? She knows what she's doing."

"I can figure it out," she said, stung.

"Well, yeah…But Regina's just so much better. No-no offense, but… you know, you kind of suck at this," Neal said apologetically.

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh."

"Don't get mad."

"I'm not mad."

"You're doing your mad face."

"This is my face, Neal. This is my face."

"Yes. And it's mad."

Emma clenched her jaw, gripping Neal's hands with somewhat unnecessary force. She ignored his quiet gasp of pain and reached for her magic. A sound like a shotgun firing echoed through the woods, and a jolt of electricity sent her flying backwards, knocking the wind out of her.

"Oh….shit," she moaned, her back throbbing. She slowly opened her eyes and stared at the somewhat blurry treetops. "You all right, Neal?"

"Yeah," he said, also sounding out of breath. "But I'll tell you, that hurt like a mother—"

"What have you done?"

Emma sat up. "Rumple?" she said in disbelief. "It worked?"

Rumple looked at her horrorstruck. "You've killed him! You've killed my son!" he screamed.

"Actually, I'm fine—" Neal began.

"How could you? You've destroyed everything, you stupid, stupid girl!"

"But Rumple, he's—"

A hand shot out and gripped her throat. Rumple glared at her with such hatred, Emma felt her eyes burn. "Not another _word_ ," he growled.

"HEY. I'M FINE. HOW ARE YOU?" Neal's voice said from behind. Rumple's fury turned to confusion, and he turned around slowly, revealing Neal standing behind them.

"Bae?" he whispered.

"Yeah, you can stop strangling the mother of my child now," Neal said, scratching the back of his head. Rumple looked back at Emma and gave her a tight smile, releasing her.

"Heh. Awkward," he chuckled, helping her up.

"Is my throat all red?" she gasped, massaging her neck. Neal and Rumple leaned forward to examine her throat.

"Mmm…move your scarf…little more…uh, yeah. Yeah, it's a little red," Rumple said sheepishly.

"You all right? Can you stand up?"

"I am standing up," she said, still trying to catch her breath. Rumple and Neal's blurry faces seemed to exchange a glance, but what did she know? She could barely see.

"Okay, Em, I think we're going to take you to see Dr. Whale," Neal said gently, taking her elbow.

"What? Guys, I'm fine….Shit, how long have we been out here? It's already dark."

"No….no, it's not dark, Emma." Neal sounded concerned.

"Uh, yeah. It _is_ dark, the sky's all black," she scoffed.

"Okay, " Rumple said too cheerfully. "Time to see Dr. Whale. Come on, Emma…"


	2. Chapter 2

She wasn't sure how, but when she opened her eyes, she was in the hospital. Emma looked around herself, noting that she was lying on a hospital bed with a half-eaten bowl of Jello on the food tray.

"What the shit?" she mumbled.

"Mom?" Henry's face came into focus, looking relieved. "You're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine… Just kind of wondering why I'm staring at someone's old Jello," she frowned.

"You're in the hospital," Henry explained. "These two guys brought you in, said they found you in woods." Henry looked around, and lowered his voice. "Hey…are you friends with the weird guy or something?"

"Rum—er, Mr. Gold? Not exactly."

"Is Mr. Gold the one with the big coat?"

"Big coat…uh, no. No, that's uh—" she snapped her fingers, trying to remember Hook's real name. It was a weird one, she knew that. She wanted to say…Peter. Maybe Lowell. "That's… Clive," she said finally. _Clive? Where did that come from?_

"Clive."

"Yes. Clive. Clive, the, uh….pharmacist." _What?_

"Pharmacist," Henry repeated, sounding unconvinced.

"Yep."

"Well, why is he dressed like the Count of Monte Cristo?"

"Because….he's European." Emma smiled at Henry's suspicious face. "That's just how they do things there."

Henry looked as though he were about to argue, but was cut off by Mary Margaret exclaiming, "EMMA'S UP! GET THE DOCTOR! GET COCOA! GET THAT GENDER-CONFUSED HOMELESS MAN OUT OF HERE!"

"I'm on it," David said, grabbing a bemused Hook by the arm and whirling him out of the room. Emma raised her eyebrows, but decided she could live without hearing the story behind that one.

Mary Margaret came rushing at her, grabbing her face and peering at it worriedly. "Are you all right, hon? Do you need anything? Some water, come cocoa? More Jello? GET THE DOCTOR! Are you okay? Do you feel dizzy? Is your vision blurry? WHERE'S THAT DAMN DOCTOR? How's your head? How's your neck? Can you breathe okay? Are you—?"

"Mom!" Emma said exasperatedly. Henry raised his eyebrows. "Is….what I would say if she were my mom," she finished lamely. "Mary Margaret, please let go of my face."

Mary Margaret released her, but absently started stroking her hair in a far-too-motherly way. Henry stared. Emma smiled nervously. "It's not that weird, Henry," she said.

"I don't know, Mom. It's kind of weird."

"This is how I treat all my friends, Henry," Mary Margaret said unconvincingly.

"Oh. How very…creepy." Henry shook his head. "I'm going to the cafeteria. I'll be back."

"See you later," Emma said wearily.

"DON'T GET THE FISH!" Mary Margaret called after him. Once Henry was out of earshot, she turned back to Emma. "What happened?"

"Let's just wait till everyone's here, I don't want to explain it a million times."

"Tell me, and I'll tell everyone else. What happened?"

"No. You'll just tell everyone your own version of what happened, and then I'm going to have to go around figuring out what everyone thinks happened and clearing it up. Where's my phone?"

"Why?" Mary Margaret said suspiciously.

"I want to text everyone to come here, so I can explain what happened."

"Oh." Her expression cleared. "So only people with phones and texting can come. Well, that's all right, then."

"I know what you're thinking, and I gave Hook Henry's old phone."

"But…" Mary Margaret sounded like a three-year-old whose mother refuses to buy sugary marshmallow cereal. "But, Emma…"

"Are Neal and Rumple here, or do I need to text them? Because I don't have Rumple's number."

"Emma…"

"Mmm?"

"There are starving children in India who could have hawked that old phone for food."

Emma put her phone down and frowned at her mother. "Are you actually blaming me for child hunger?"

Mary Margaret looked horrified. "No! I would never blame you for that!"

Emma narrowed her eyes.

"I'm blaming Hook for that," Mary Margaret clarified.

"Okay," she sighed, setting her phone on the food tray. She frowned at the Jello. "Was I eating Jello at any point?"

Mary Margaret glanced at the bowl. "No, that's Neal's."

Emma put a hand to her heart, touched. "You mean, he was watching over me all night? How sweet."

Mary Margaret blinked a few times. "…Yes. Yes, that-that is exactly what happened." She cleared her throat. "I, uh…I'll be back in a minute. I have to ask Neal something." She hurried out of the room.

Her phone buzzed. Emma squinted to read Regina's text: _Be there in five. Just have to ditch Robin. Don't start without me._

"Robin?" she muttered. The door swung open and a train of people came in: Mary Margaret, Neal, Rumple, David, Hook, Belle, Tink, and Dr. Whale.

"How are we doing today, Emma?" Whale asked, frowning at a clipboard.

"Better, thanks. And Neal, thank you so much. Mary Margaret told me what you did, that was so sweet."

"Yeah… I'm—I'm the sweetest," he said, smiling awkwardly.

"You really are," Tink beamed.

Hook cleared his throat. "You're sweet, too, Hook. Oh, thank you, whoever said that, that is so nice of you to say!"

"I think you're sweet," David said quietly. Hook replied by scooting a little farther away from him.

"Ow," Belle snapped. "You just crushed my foot, moron!"

"I'm sorry, you must be THIS tall to give me attitude," Hook said loudly, holding his hand high over Belle's head.

"Why are we all crammed in Emma's room?" Rumple complained. "I'm getting claustrophobia."

Belle's eyes widened. "Rumple? How did you—? I mean, how can you—? _WHAT THE_ —?"

"SHH!" Whale said scandalously to a staggering Belle. "I have other patients!"

"Sorry I'm late!" Regina burst into the room, out of breath. "I had…to run here… in high heels."

"You want some water?" Neal asked as Regina collapsed at his feet.

"I'm fine," she said in a muffled voice. "I'm just going to lay here for a little."

"I have alcohol," Hook offered. "Want to get hammered?"

"Kind of."

"Belle, get my flask, would you?" Hook said, helping Regina to a chair.

"Where is it?"

"Under my pillow, over there." Everyone turned to stare at Hook. He looked up, startled. "Jesus. What?"

"Did you sleep here last night?" Emma asked incredulously. Hook blinked a few times.

"Nooooo…."

"Oh, my God, you slept here last night?"

"What?" he said, weakly laughing. "Don't be ridiculous, why would you…?" He trailed off as everyone stared at him. "Well, I had to sleep somewhere, didn't I?" he said indignantly.

"Dude…" Neal made a face and shook his head. "That's…that's…"

"Weird," Belle said. Everyone nodded, murmuring in agreement. "Definitely weird."

"Granny wouldn't give me a room!" Hook protested. "She said, no felons!"

"She gave me a room," Neal said quietly. Hook frowned.

"Wait, what?"

"She. Gave. Me. A. Room."

"Well, hold on! Why'd she give you a room?"

Neal shrugged. "Why indeed?"

"Okay!" Emma said loudly as Hook opened his mouth to argue. "Let's just all agree that Hook is weird, and Granny plays favorites, okay? Good. Now, everyone shut up, so I can explain—"she gestured at Rumple—"this…strange little man."

"Well, that's not the confusing bit," Belle said. "You broke the spell that bound their souls together, I told you that over the phone." She looked around, nodding at everyone's raised eyebrows. "Yeah. Yeah, I was the one who figured that out, thanks very much."

"High-fives, Australia," Hook said, holding up his hand. Belle smiled, standing on tip-toe to smack his hand.

"What is the confusing bit?" Mary Margaret asked. "Other than this friendship, of course."

"Oh, come on," Hook objected. "We're adorable."

"Seriously, though," Belle agreed.

"We could out-cute a cocker-spaniel puppy with a ribbon round its neck, licking a cherubic little toddler's face."

"We could out-cute a basket of bunnies nibbling carrot cupcakes and snuggling against a teddy bear."

"We could out-cute—"

"So, I did magic," Emma said loudly. Regina looked up, surprised.

"You did?"

"I did. NEAL thought I couldn't do it, but I did."

"I still don't understand how you and Neal ended up in the woods," Mary Margaret said. "I thought Neal was supposed to be in the hospital, resting."

"Well, I was," Neal said. "And then, I wasn't."

"But…but you were supposed to be resting," Mary Margaret insisted.

"Yes, I understand that," Neal said patiently. "But then me and Emma had a talk about how Henry still didn't remember me, and she was going on and on about New York—"

Everyone let out a collective groan. Emma folded her arms defensively.

"Look, me and Henry had a good thing going there," she said. "I had a great job, he had a great school—"

"And of course, beastality is always fun,"Hook interjected.

Whale choked on a sip of coffee. "Beg pardon?" he gasped.

Hook smiled at everyone's stunned faces. "Yes, Walsh is a real catch. He owns a furniture store, a great apartment in the city, and he and Emma could have a very happy life together—provided Animal Control doesn't have restrictions against domesticating flying monkeys."

"Whoa," Rumple said, looking at Emma with round eyes. "You are into some weird shit."

"Okay, I think that's a conversation best saved for later," Emma said, glaring at Hook. "Back to how I magicked Neal—"

"Well, actually, Emma, Neal was still telling us about why he wasn't resting in the hospital like he should have been," Mary Margaret interrupted. "Go on, Neal."

"Right, so Emma was going on about New York….failed to mention that she was dating Curious George—"

"Neal…"

"All right. Anyways, so then she left, and I started thinking. And the more I thought, the more pissed I got. I mean, Henry's my kid, too. So I says to myself, 'Screw this hospital shit. The sooner we find this witch, the sooner Henry remembers me.' And then Hook brought Jello—"

"It was a great bromance moment," Hook said.

"Well, it got pretty weird at the end, when you tried to hug me."

"What's weird about two guys hugging each other?"

David placed a hand on Hook's shoulder. "What indeed?" he said quietly. Hook stared at the hand for a minute, then whispered, "Belle, switch places with me."

"So, Hook said he'd give me ten minutes before he told everyone I was gone. So I left—"

"Wait, wait, wait," Mary Margaret frowned. "Hook never told us anything."

Hook looked down at his feet. "Well, I was going to, but then I forgot."

"You for—YOU FORGOT?" Mary Margaret stood up with lightening speed. "NEAL COULD HAVE BEEN SERIOUSLY INJURED, YOU IMBECILE!"

"I'm—I'm sorry!" Hook said, cowering behind Belle. "But I lost track of time! I didn't realize more than ten minutes went by! You know, Neal left, and I thought, 'Hey. No one's using this bed', so I put my feet up, flipped through a magazine, ate some Jello—"

"Hold up, hold up," Emma said. She pointed at Hook. "You ate that Jello?"

Hook gave her a pained look. "Yes. I ate Jello. Why is this the part you're fixating on?"

"Because Mary Margaret said that was Neal's Jello. And that he ate it while he was holding a nightly vigil for me."

"Technically, you said that," Mary Margaret pointed out. "I just didn't correct you."

"And you went along with this?" Emma asked Neal incredulously.

"Hey, don't get mad at me!" Neal snapped. "Your mom told me that you were still confused, so I should just smile and nod at whatever you said!"

"MOM!"

"So, Neal left the hospital, and you found him in the woods," Mary Margaret prompted, smiling nervously. "Please continue."

"We're talking about this later."

"And I can't wait for it. We can also talk about your monkey fiance," Mary Margaret said, raising a meaningful eyebrow.

Emma gave her mother a measured look. "Well played."

"Emma, no offense, but I'm really not interested in hearing more about your dysfunctional relationships," Regina said tersely. "Can we talk about the magic now?"

"Yeah, fine. I met up with Neal in the woods, and then Belle called me about the mark on his hand and told me about the spell—"

"And see, that was what I meant when I mentioned that confusing bit," Belle said. "That spell should have killed Neal."

"Ouch," Neal said, looking deeply offended.

"No, no, no, no, I'm beyond thrilled that you're okay," Belle said quickly. "Oh, my God, Neal, you know I love you. I'm just saying, when Emma broke the spell, it should have killed you. And for some reason, it didn't—mercifully."

"Uh-huh."

"Don't be mad," she pleaded "You know I didn't mean it like that."

"Sure. Whatever. I get it."

"Neal, come on…"

"So, Belle called me, and told me it was a spell. A powerful spell. That I broke. By myself. Without help." Emma shrugged. "If anyone wants to hear about that."

"How did you do that?" Rumple said through a mouthful of Jello."I mean, that's impressive."

"Yeah, thanks…" Emma stared at him spooning Jello into his mouth. Rumple stared back.

"Any day now, honey," said, waving his spoon.

"Right, sorry." Emma shook her head. "So, I actually did what you told me, about how magic was about feeling, not thinking. So I took Neal's hands and tried to focus my magic—"

"Yeah," Neal said, looking at Hook smugly. "We held hands."

Hook shrugged. "Yeah, well, Episode 3x05. Just saying."

Neal smirked. "Yeah, well, Henry… Just saying."

Whale choked on his coffee again. " _Snap!_ "

Belle quietly took a notepad from her purse and made a mark in it. Hook frowned down at her.

"What's that?"

"Nothing," Belle said quickly, trying to stow it away, but Hook snatched it from her and held it out of her reach, squinting at it.

"It's our names with a bunch tally marks under them," he said to Neal. "Belle, what is this?"

"Nothing!" she insisted.

"Because it looks like a scorecard."

"And it looks like I'm winning," Neal said, looking pleased.

"Only by three points," Hook said witheringly. "Belle?"

"I…" Belle looked at Hook apologetically, and sighed."Okay, don't get upset…"

"That phrase is never followed by something good," Neal said, not troubling to hide his laughter. Hook smiled at him tightly.

"Thanks, mate."

"No problemo, _mate_."

Hook narrowed his eyes."Okay, why'd you say it like that?"

"Like what?" Neal said innocently.

"You said 'mate' ironically, like you were making fun of it. What's up with that?"

Neal cleared his throat. "So, Belle…the tallies?"

"I've just… I've been keeping track of victories for you two while you guys sort out this whole love triangle situation with Emma," Belle explained. "I'm just having trouble deciding which ship to support, so I—"

"Do you mean to tell me," Hook said loudly, "that you were actually debating whether or not to root for your very bestest, dearest, closest, beautifulest friend?"

"Well, when he's up against my future step-son, yes…I'm afraid so." Belle looked down at her hands. "And just so's you know…uh, 'beautifulest' isn't really a word."

"Well, how come he's got more tallies than me?" Hook demanded. "This is _such_ bullshit."

"See, if _he_ was winning, it would be mathematical evidence," Neal told the room. "But since _I'm_ winning…"

"I mean, I can't believe this!"

"I told you not to get upset—"

"I'M NOT UPSET!"

"Are—are you sure? You sound a little upset. I think you could use a cup of tea."

"Tea," Hook scoffed. "Regina. Flask." He held out his hand.

Regina held it behind her back. "No. You deal with your problems sober."

He closed his eyes exasperatedly. "Regina, please. It's been focus-grouped a million times. Alcohol is the answer to all problems Now, I repeat—flask."

"You are an alcoholic," she persisted.

"I am not. I just deeply appreciate its wondrous healing powers. Flask."

"You're addicted."

"I can stop any time I want. I simply don't want to stop now."

"Because you know you'll suffer withdrawal."

"Because I know I'll be depriving myself of a clinically proven treatment to any and every problem I could possibly have. And that's just plain silly."

"Alcohol is not a solution. It is a problem."

"That's nonsense. Ask Emma."

"Ask Emma what?" Emma looked up."What's going on?"

"Regina is trying to tell me that alcohol serves no medicinal purpose. I think you and I both know that is not true."

Emma frowned. "What are you even talking about?"

Hook looked hurt. "The…the beanstalk, of course. Remember, you sliced your hand?"

"Uh…vaguely. What about it?"

"No, no, see…you sliced your hand…?" He seemed to be waiting for her to understand. Emma nodded slowly.

"Right…"

Hook looked frustrated. "You sliced your hand, I poured rum on it—"

"Ooh. Ooh, you shouldn't have done that, uh-uh." Dr. Whale shook his head. "That was very medically irresponsible."

"What? It's alcohol. It cleans infection."

"Well, yes…in sterile cases. But if that rum came from your flask, it could have been tainted. So you could have been pouring harmful bacteria into an open wound."

"Seriously?" Hook looked alarmed. "Oh, my God. Emma, I am so sorry, I swear, I was never trying to poison you."

"It's fine." Emma looked at Regina deliberately. "Some of us _have_ tried to poison me."

"And others of us skanked around so much in Neverland, we almost didn't get my son back," Regina said loudly.

"Point Regina," David muttered.

"Is anyone interested in knowing who the witch is?" Rumple said, finally setting the empty bowl down. "And also, does anyone have a napkin?"

"Who needs a napkin for Jello?" Emma frowned. "It doesn't smear, it doesn't stain. How can you make a mess of Jello?" She paused. "How do you even clean up Jello?"

Rumple stared at her."The fuck are you on about, Swan?"

"It's a legitimate question! I mean….do you wipe it? Do you sponge it? I'm not even sure what state of matter it is…"

"Solid."

"It's liquid," Hook said instantly.

Rumple scoffed. "You always have to argue."

"It's solid," Belle said. "Definitely solid."

"It's conforms to its container," Hook argued.

"So do mashed potatoes. Those are solid."

"Are they?" Hook folded his arms. " _Are they, Belle?_ "

Belle shook her head. "Are you actually arguing with me about mashed potatoes right now?"

"The witch is Zelena," Rumple said loudly, interrupting what was looking to be the start of a very ugly battle. "The Wicked Witch of the West. Green skin, and all."

The room went silent as everyone slowly turned to stare at Rumple. Mary Margaret in particular looked deeply unsettled.

"You mean….Zelena as in, Zelena the midwife?" she whispered. "The woman whose been helping me these last couple months, giving me baby tips? The woman who I've been drinking tea with every midmorning and watching The View with? That Zelena?"

Rumple frowned. "Exactly how many Zelenas do you know?"

"Well, where is she?" Emma demanded frantically. "What is she doing? What does she want?"

He shrugged. "I dunno."

Emma gaped at him."You don't know?" she repeated. "How can you not know?"

"Well, it's not like we did a lot of chit-chat!" he snapped. "I was her prisoner, not her gal pal."

"Are you—?" Emma stopped, feeling her stomach lurch as a horrible sense of realization swept over her. "Oh, my God, Henry," she breathed. She leapt out of the bed. "Dad, take Rumple and Tink, and find Zelena. Neal and Regina, come with me. Mom, spread the word about Zelena, alert the town. Belle, get to the library, try to find out what she's planning. And Hook…"

"I'm ready. Let's go. What do you need me to do, chief?"

"You…can….help Belle reach the top shelves."

Hook's jaw unhinged. "Are you serious?"

"Not now, okay? Neal, grab the book."

"Emma, come on," Hook pleaded, catching her elbow. "Please, can I come with you guys? I'm good with kids."

"I said, not now. Dad, take my handcuffs. Hook, get off my arm."

"But I can—"

"I don't have time for this!" she shouted. Hook looked surprised, dropping her arm. "Now, are you finished being useless, or should we pick this up after I save the town again?"

Neal suddenly became very interested and amused in his shoes. Belle discreetly made another mark in her notepad.

Hook awkwardly scratched his nose. "No, no, that won't be necessary," he said quietly.


	3. Chapter 3

******REAL QUICK AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

 **So, I got a request to write a "what-if" for Bae going back in time with Emma, rather than Hook. I just want to say, Anonymous, I am totally up for that, but please bear in mind that that too will be PURE HUMOR (I lack the ability to write anything remotely serious). THANK YOU, THOUGH, I LOVE YOU, OKAY, BYE.**

Neal gave Hook one last smirk, just to rub it in, before following Emma out the door. Finally, things were going right. Henry was going to remember him, Emma was mad at Hook, Regina still had Hook's flask in her hand, so Hook was going to be miserable… Ah, the sweet taste of victory.

"Down the stairs, I don't have time to wait for an elevator," Emma ordered, taking a sharp turn. As they pounded down the stairs, Neal could hear Belle's heels on the floor above, and Hook's yelp of surprise at the elevator dinged. Belle said something he couldn't make out.

"I do _not_ get their friendship," he said they jumped the last stair and ran to the cafeteria.

"Yeah, that one really threw me," Regina agreed, swinging open the door.

"I have to admit, though, it is oddly cute," Emma said. She scanned the cafeteria, looking for their son. "Henry? HENRY!"

"Mom?"

The three of them swiveled in the direction of Henry's voice, and found a bemused Henry sitting at a table with his GameBoy resting in his hands. He stared curiously at Neal and Regina.

"Oh, my God," Emma rushed toward him and hugged him tightly. "You're okay," she breathed in relief. "You're okay."

"Yeah, I'm fine," Henry said in a muffled voice. "Mom?"

"Mmm-hmm?"

"Could you… let go?"

"What?"

"I can't really breathe."

"Oh!" Emma released him. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'm just…I'm so relieved you're all right."

Henry raised his eyebrows. "Yes, I suppose the hospital cafeteria can be a dangerous place." He looked quizzically at Neal and Regina. "Are they…friends of yours?"

"Oh, yeah," Neal smiled. "In fact, I'm probably the best friend she's ever had."

Henry nodded slowly. "Nice to meet you…?"

Neal shook his hand. "Neal. I, uh, I also go by 'Dad'."

Henry blinked. "Excuse me?" he said, while Regina mouthed, _Wow._

"Or 'Daddy', if you like, but I feel like you're a little old for that."

Henry shook his head. "I don't—-" his voice got all high-pitched and breathy. "Mom?" he said in a strained voice. "What is he talking about?"

"Thanks. Thanks for breaking it to him gently," Emma said, glaring at Neal. "It's not like you knew that was going to be a bombshell or anything."

"Well, just give him back his memories, then it won't be an issue," Regina said reasonably.

"How do I do that?"

"The book," Regina said, looking at her as if she had just dribbled juice on her shirt. "Neal, give him the book."

"Hey, kid—catch." Neal tossed the book at Henry. He caught it, looked down at it, then slowly looked back up. Neal leaned toward Regina. "Do you think he remembers?" he said in her ear.

"Hard to say."

"Do you remember?" Emma asked him. "Do you remember all the stories, all the magic?"

Henry looked at her, confused. "Mom, are you high?"

"I feel like he doesn't remember," Regina whispered back. "Make him believe. He's got to believe."

"I'm on it." Neal cleared his throat and sat down next to Henry. "Hey, Henry, how's it going? Good?"

Henry looked at him, breathing rapidly. "Honestly? Uh, not—not so great. I think I'm having a panic attack."

"What? Come on…"

"I mean… first my mom shows up, terrified that I might have been in danger….Then you…introduce yourself as 'Dad'…And now I think my mom might be Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds." Henry's face was bloodless. "I think I might pass out."

"Okay, but before you do that, could you do me a favor?" Neal pointed at the book. "Could you just believe that all of those are real, for just two seconds?"

Henry stared at him. "What?"

"Here—" Neal grabbed the book. "Okay, ready? And…believe!" He threw the book at Henry again. "Are you believing yet?"

"I don't understand what's happening," Henry said, sounding frightened. "Are you all high?"

Neal looked up at Emma and Regina. "Okay, this might require a little more effort than I thought."


	4. Chapter 4

"Come on, let's go," Belle said, readjusting her purse strap. "We've got to get to the library, ASAP."

"Yeah. Before the books go on strike, and _leave_." She could hear his eyes rolling, but she chose to ignore it. He was probably just bitchy because he was suffering from withdrawal, like Regina said. He'd never gone more than ten minutes without a drink.

"Come on, hurry up!" she called over her shoulder.

"I don't understand how you're going to run very far in those monstrosities strapped to your feet," he drawled.

"What running?" Belle scoffed, pressing the elevator button. There was a _ding!_ and the doors slid open. Hook jumped, letting out a yelp and holding his hand to his heart.

"Jesus Christ," he gasped. He looked at Belle, shaking his head. "Still gets me. Every time."

Belle frowned. "That's pretty sad."

"No, you know what's sad?" he said, following her into the elevator. "Being a grown woman who still needs a booster seat."

"How is it that you know about things like booster seats, and you still have a heart attack when an elevator opens?" she said, punching the button for the ground floor. Hook jumped again as the door slid shut. He closed his eyes, leaning against the wall.

"Last time I was in an elevator, I ended up being pushed into Maleficent's little hellhole under the library."

"Is that why you hate the library?" Belle asked, for the first time looking _down_ at him. He shook his head.

"No, I just think reading's a drag."

"Really?"Belle cocked her head. "I didn't know you could read."

"Why is everyone surprised by that?" Hook said, getting up as the doors one again slid open. Belle's heels echoed across the floor, but not loudly enough to mask the sound of something heavy being thrown, and Neal's voice shouting, "Believe!"

For a moment, they stood still, gazing at the closed doors of the cafeteria.

"How do you think it's going in there?"

Belle shrugged. "They seem to be making progress."

She continued down the hall, relishing the sound of her shoes echoing off the walls. It made her feel important. Powerful. Intimidating. Sometimes, she just stalked around the shop wearing her noisiest heels, just to giver her self esteem a boost.

"Hold on, hold on," Hook said, hurrying past her. He swung the door open, peered outside left and right, then pulled it open wider. "All right," he said, gesturing her through. "Go ahead."

Belle raised her eyebrows. Hook stared back, shaking his head in bewilderment.

"What?"

"What was that?" she said, trying not to smile as she stepped through.

"I was making sure the area was safe," he said indignantly.

"Oh, I see." She bit her lip, trying her damnedest not to laugh.

"Are you mocking me, Australia?"

"What?" she said, trying to sound shocked. "No! Of course not!"

"Right."

"I'm not."

"Uh-huh."

"Well…well, maybe just a little," she conceded, holding her fingers barely apart. Hook shrugged.

"Fine. Next time, I'll just let a flying monkey swoop you up. Hey, maybe you two will hit off, and you and Emma and Walsh can double-date."

"No, that would be weird," she frowned. "Me and Emma don't do a lot of one-on-one hanging out."

"Okay, you know what…" He trailed off, muttering something bitter under his breath. Belle carefully reminded herself that withdrawal could do ugly things to a person, and that she had to maintain her patience.

"I've been meaning to ask you," she said at they turned onto the sidewalk, "is there a story behind the guy-liner?"

"Is there a story behind the false eyelashes?" he countered.

Belle pursed her lips. "Touche."

They walked in a very tense silence the rest of the way to the library. This time when they got to the doors, Hook looked at the handle, then at Belle, back to the handle, and raised his eyebrows as if to say, _Well?_

"You are such a gentleman," she said witheringly, tugging the door open. Hook glided through, a faint smirk on his face.

"So," he said, as she shut the doors. "Now what?"

"What do you think?" she said acidly. "We're in a library. We read."

"Right. Read." Hook nodded, staring at all the bookshelves. "So," he said, clearing his throat, " _what_ do we read?"

Belle dragged out her book cart. "Well…what do we know about Zelena so far?"

"Uh…." Hook shook his head, thinking. "We know….she's got flying monkeys who hit on my girlfriend."

"For the _last_ time,"Belle exclaimed, "Emma is not your girlfriend!"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, she is."

"No. She's not."

He shrugged. "Agree to disagree."

Belle stared at him. "You need help. Seriously."

"Belle," Hook said, sounding as exasperated as a parent scolding a small child for throwing food, "I sacrificed my ship for her." He shrugged. "It's a done deal. We're canon."

"What does that even mean?" she said, pulling some books off the shelf.

"'Canon' is when—"

"No. What do you mean, you sacrificed your ship for her?"

"Oh, that. I traded it to Blackbeard for a magic bean, so I could travel to her world." Hook leaned against the counter, smiling a very self-satisfied smile. "Pretty romantic, huh?"

Belle shrugged. "I guess, but why didn't you just get a mermaid to open a portal for you or something?"

His smile faded some. "It's not like they'll just open a portal if you ask nicely."

"Yeah, but aren't mermaids slutty?" she said, frowning up at him.

He looked at her suspiciously. "Yeah…"

"And aren't you slutty?"

He frowned. "Affectionate, but go on."

"I'm just saying," she shrugged, "I feel like you had options, but you wanted to make some big grand gesture, even though in retrospect, it was more short-sighted than romantic." Belle looked back up at Hook's darkening face. "No offense," she added.

"None taken. I love it when people call me a short-sighted slut. It warms my heart. Here, pass me a book." He jerked out a hand. Belle put a defensive hand on her cart.

"You're just going to throw it."

He gave her a pained look. "Belle. I am a grown man. I have been for more than two hundred years. How can you possibly expect me to do something so immature?"

Belle tilted her head, trying to decide whether or not he was being genuine. On the one hand, he was being very forceful for someone trying to be helpful. On the other hand, he was going through withdrawal for the first time. Out of the goodness of her heart, she decided to give him the benefit of a doubt.

"Okay, this is a book on Oz," she said, guiding him to a table and pulling out a chair. "Just skim this, see if anything jumps out to you that might give us a clue about Zelena."

"'Chapter Five: Flying Monkeys, Munchkins, and Other Magical Minions,'" he read. "Hmmm…sounds interesting."

Belle gritted her teeth. "Yes, but it might be more worthwhile to look at…. I don't know, Chapter Eight? 'Wicked Spells and Enchantments'?"

"Or Chapter Nine—'Bossy Midgets Who Overcompensate With Six-Inch Heels'."

 _Do not take the bait, Belle,_ she ordered herself. _He is in pain, and he is a recovering addict. Do not take it personally, you're better than that._ She forced a laugh. "Let's just get started, okay?"

"Oh, this is interesting" Hook said as she walked back to the desk. "Listen to this: 'Flying monkeys are notoriously bad with children, unlike the noble pirate, who is not only good with children, but also painfully good-looking and extremely witty." He twisted in his seat, smiling. "You see, Belle? It's not me talking—it's _science._ "

Belle closed her eyes, resting her head in her hands. _God help me._


	5. Chapter 5

Tink watched Neal from the corner of her eye give Hook one last smirk, and had to suppress a giggle. She smiled to herself, shaking her head. _That Neal…._

She was barely aware of her surroundings as she followed David and Rumple down the stairs and out to the parking lot, where David's truck was waiting. She dreamily squeezed next to David in the middle seat, while Rumple crammed in next to her. A girlish laugh escaped her throat as David started the truck and pulled onto the road.

"He's just so damn _cute_ ," she sighed, still smiling. Rumple side-eyed her, then slowly shifted his gaze forward, looking deeply uncomfortable. David cleared his throat awkwardly.

"So, I'm thinking our first stop is the farmhouse," he said. Rumple nodded, apparently grateful for the subject change.

"Zelena could very well still be there. We might be lucky enough to catch her off guard." Rumple drummed his fingers on the door. "You take care of the brute force. I'll do what I can against her magic, but she's still got my dagger. So, Tink, you're going to have to be our back-up."

David looked at her. "Tink," he said, nudging her.

"Hmm?"

"Did you hear that?"

"Yeah….'course…."

Rumple snapped his fingers in front of her face. "Focus, honey. This is serious. Life-and-death-serious."

She blinked. "What is?"

Rumple threw up his hands and looked at David, as if to say, _I'm done. You deal with this._ David sighed.

"Tink… I know you've been a little, uh… _preoccupied_ lately, but you've got to pull yourself together, all right? This is really important."

"Guys, I _got_ this, okay? Stop worrying." They didn't seem much reassured, she thought, looking between the two of them. She threw her head back, laughing. " _Guys,_ " she said, slinging her arms around them. "I'm telling you, I _got_ this."

"Do you?" Rumple said, unconvinced.

"Yes."

"You're sure?" David prodded her.

"Totally sure."

"All right….I'm trusting you."

"Absolutely." Tink breathed in deeply, looking at the road ahead. "So," she said. "Where are we going?"

"Goddamn it," Rumple sighed, covering his eyes.

* * *

By the time David pulled up to the farmhouse, Tink had managed to make all three of them more uncomfortable than they had ever been in their lives. The last five minutes had been particularly awkward, as she had used the phrase "sexy Teddy bear". No one was quite sure what to make of that. They nearly tripped over each other in their eagerness to get out of the truck.

"I'll go in from the front," David said in a low voice, taking out his gun. "Tink and Rumple, take the back."

The two of them looked at each other uneasily, unable to deny that the weirdness was still very much there. "Sure," Rumple said at last. "No problem."

Tink smiled tightly. "You got it, chief," she said, giving him a thumbs-up.

David studied them for a minute. "Everything all right?"

"Everything's great," Rumple said, too brightly. "I'm great. We're all great."

"Totes," Tink said, trying to sound at ease. "I'm more than great. I'm…super great."

David nodded slowly. "Okay…I just don't want anyone distracted. Zelena's dangerous. I don't want to risk screwing this up—"

Rumple tossed his head, laughing. "Dave, Dave, Dave—may I call you Dave?" Without waiting for an answer, he clapped him on the shoulder. "Look, Dave—we're all professionals here. We're not going to let a little awkwardness affect something as important as saving the town. So let's all relax, and get this show on the road. Okay?"

David exhaled resignedly. "Okay…"

"Okay." Rumple clapped his hands together. "Let's do this."

Tink followed him through the wet grass toward the back of the house, shivering against the bitter wind. Further ahead, she could see the woods, where Emma had separated Rumple's soul from Neal's.

 _Neal…._

Tink felt a dreamy smile spread on her face. She thought back to Neverland, when they had reunited…He had burst into the clearing, holding out a coconut triumphantly, looking _good_. The last time she'd seen him had been more than two hundred years ago….when he was twelve. She frowned: math was different in Neverland. Somehow, thirty-something minus two hundred made twelve. She shrugged. She'd never been great at math….although, she had _excelled_ in chemistry.

"Shhh," Rumple whispered, swinging out an arm. "This house is old, it creaks at the drop of a hat."

"Good thing neither of us are wearing a hat."

Rumple spared her a single exasperated look before sneaking up the stairs and spelling the door so that it opened silently. Tink could see David through the front window, waiting for Rumple's signal that it was clear.

Except it wasn't.

"Went out for a stroll, did you, _dearie?_ " A woman's voice, cold and mocking, echoed from all sides. Tink whirled around, trying to trace it to the owner, but it was too dark.

"And you've got a little girlfriend? My, they just keep getting younger and younger, don't they?"

"What can I say? I'm a bit of a ladies'-man," Rumple shot back, jerking his hand in a violent gesture. Somewhere in the shadows, a rafter broke and crashed to the floor, shattering into a million splinters.

 _"_ _Very_ close, almost had me!" the woman, who could only have been Zelena, cackled. Her voice seemed to be coming from above them, as though she were….

Flying.

Tink checked her neck for the leather cord that held her vial of pixie dust. She wrapped her fingers around it and closed her eyes. _Believe_ , she told herself. _Believe._

She tried to picture herself lifting up into the air, moving as fluidly as a siren in the sea. She squeezed her eyes tight, trying to concentrate. But her mind kept wandering….

 _Neal…_

She smiled happily. Well, who needed flying, really? Gravity was a law for a reason, after all.

"DO SOMETHING!" Rumple screamed.

Tink blinked. She must have missed the last few minutes because David had broke in and was now firing bullets every which way. The windows had been broken, letting in enough light to reveal a beautiful, but cruel-looking woman with a stream of red hair zooming through the air on a broomstick, throwing spells at them.

"TINK!" David yelled.

"Uh—" she looked around herself frantically, looking for some sort of weapon. "I don't know what to do!" she screamed.

"FLY, YOU IDIOT, FLY! FLY!" Rumple shouted.

Tink looked down at her pixie dust. "Please work," she said softly, gripping it tightly. She concentrated all her thoughts on being weightless, floating up, up, up…

To her amazement, her boots slowly lifted off the dusty wood floor and glided, slowly but surely, through the air. "I'm doing it," she breathed. "I'm doing it!"

Zelena blinked at her, pausing in her flight. "Holy Mother," she said. "How are you doing that?"

"I have no idea!" Tink said in delight.

Zelena continued to watch as Tink continued to rise….more….and more… out through a window…hovering above the roof now….trees getting smaller….It occurred to her that even though she'd figured out how to fly _up_ , she hadn't the foggiest idea how to fly _down._

"Oh…. _shit_. _"_ Now she was stuck, floating higher and higher, at least until the pixie dust ran out. And who knew how long _that_ would take? Panic flooded her stomach. What if took days? Weeks? What if by the time she landed, Emma had finally come to her senses and married Neal, and they lived happily ever after with their five children in their suburban neighborhood, and had adorable family traditions like making pancakes in the shape of obscure dinosaurs every Sunday?

She felt her face flush, as if flames were reaching all the way to the roots of her hair. No fucking way that skinny bitch was going to steal Neal away from her. No. Fucking. Way.

She glared down at the world below, and in a flash of movement, turned herself upside down and _charged_ like a bolt of lightening. Tiny green dots became trees that she rushed past, shooting through the broken windows, and with an almighty _crash!_ followed by a sickening _thud!_ she had managed to knock Zelena off her broom and slam her into the floor. Zelena's already wide eyes grew, trying to process the sheer amount of pain in her back. Tink slowly picked herself up and stared down at Zelena, ignoring the stinging pain in her limbs.

"This is my town, bitch,"she said, breathing heavily. Zelena could only stare at her in agony, air scraping through her throat as she tried to catch her breath. Tink looked up at a stunned David, and jutted her chin toward Zelena.

"I'll let you take over from here, Sheriff," she said, and slowly walked off. She stopped by Rumple, smirking at his astonished face, and walked past him, feeling like a major badass…until she tripped over the threshold and face-planted on the porch.

"You okay?" David asked, locking the cuffs.

"Are you hurt?" Rumple said.

"I'm good," Tink called through a mouthful of dirt. She closed her eyes. Thank God Neal hadn't seen that.


	6. Chapter 6

Hook hummed to himself as he skimmed the page in front of him. It had been difficult at first, trying to flip through the books: he'd had to hold the book down with his entire left arm and painstakingly run his finger through the stack of pages until just _one_ tiny sheet of paper rested on top of it. The especially tricky part was persuading it to flip over without falling back into the stack of pages behind; it was too easy for a little breeze to dismantle all his efforts.

But, he'd figured out a much more efficient system.

"Turn!" he said. Belle closed her eyes impatiently, and flipped the page for him. He smiled at her. "Thank you, darling."

"Don't call me 'darling'," she frowned, concentrating on her notes. Hook raised his eyebrows at her tone.

"Someone needs a Midol," he said under his breath. Belle slowly raised her eyes and turned her head.

"What did you say?" she said, her voice low and venomous.

"I said—" he cleared his throat—"someone needs a Midol."

She narrowed her eyes, a look of pure loathing radiating from them. She didn't say anything. Hook raised an eyebrow.

"Do you know what a Midol is?" he said cautiously.

She fumed, breathing rapidly. Why was she so angry?

"It's okay, if you don't," he said kindly. "I'm still pretty new to this world, too. I really only know because Emma told me. See, a Midol is a magical remedy for a woman's uncharacteristic…." he searched for a word more polite than "bitchiness".

"I know what a Midol is." Belle turned back to her book, muttering what he suspected were rude suggestions under her breath.

Hook turned back to his book and cleared his throat. "'Munchkins are peaceful folk, usually dwelling in groups of twenty to thirty. The most heavily populated Munchkin towns lie farther away from the Emerald City, in the South. They tend to gather near open fields, as their livelihood mainly comes from agriculture. However, there have been known to be several successful groups of sea-faring Munchkins.'" He looked over at Belle. "Does any of that seem helpful?"

"Not really," she said testily. "Could you read in your head?"

"It's just…I don't know what's going to be helpful and what isn't," he said frustratedly. "I feel like I should be double-checking."

He jumped at the sound of her phone buzzing. And again at the sound of his phone buzzing. Belle glanced at hers and looked over at Hook, who was still staring curiously at the the flashing screen. He looked up.

"I, uh, I still don't know how to do this," he said, gesturing at Henry's old flip-phone. Belle slowly picked it up and flipped it open before handing it back to him. Hook blinked in surprise. "HELLO?" he said loudly into the phone. "THIS IS HOOK."

"Okay, okay, calm…down," Belle said, clearly trying to be patient. "One—I already told you, you can talk normally into a phone. You don't have to shout. And two—it's a text, not a call."

"A what, not a what?"

"A text. You read it." She pointed to the tiny letters on the screen. "See?"

He squinted. "Why isn't it talking, though?"

"Because," Belle said through clenched teeth, "it's a _text._ You read it."

Hook raised his eyebrows. "You sure you don't want that Midol?" he muttered, looking back at the text.

The words were insanely small, and his eyes still weren't used to the strange computer fonts, so he had to labor over the task of reading it. He could feel Belle's eyes on him, knowing she was wondering exactly _how_ literate he was.

"So, they found Zelena," he said at last, setting the phone down. Little lights danced in his vision field, the familiar effect of staring at electronic screens. Belle nodded.

"Yep."

"And she's in a cell at the station." He glanced down at the still-obnoxiously-glowing screen.

"Mmm-hmm."

"But Henry still doesn't have his memories back." The phone seemed to mock him.

"Nope."

They looked at each other, the phone's light still illuminating both their faces. Hook looked at it meaningfully. Belle glanced down, then raised her eyes slowly.

"Can you make it stop?" he said finally, shoving the phone toward Belle. "The little light won't go off, it's burning my eyes."

Belle looked down at the phone, back up at him, and slowly flipped it closed. The light turned off. "There you go," she said quietly, pushing the phone back toward him.

Hook awkwardly drummed his fingers on the table. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

Hook slowly turned back to his book. A few silent, tense moments passed.

"Turn."


	7. Chapter 7

Regina put her head in her hands. "Neal, that's not going to work."

"It's going to work. Come on, Henry!" He threw the book again. "Believe!"

"You're scaring him."

"No, I'm not."

She lifted her head out of her hands and looked at her son. Henry looked more terrified than she had ever seen him. And that included being kidnapped by his evil teenaged great-grandfather.

"Please, leave me alone!" Henry begged.

"Neal…"

"It'll work! Henry, please, if you could just cooperate—!"

Regina sighed and twisted in her seat, looking for Emma. How long could it take to grab a coffee? What was so difficult? You take a cup, you push a button—coffee.

"I give up!" Neal said, throwing up his hands. Regina turned around and stared at Neal.

"You mean throwing the book at him repeatedly and yelling in his face didn't work?" she said dryly, raising an eyebrow. Henry was now curled into a little ball on the floor, rocking back and forth while whispering to himself. She sighed, and pushed herself up from the chair.

"Henry," she began, hesitantly putting her arm around him. He didn't resist, so she took that as a sign of encouragement, and held him tighter. "Look… I know you're a little freaked-out now—"

Henry looked at her incredulously. Regina blinked.

"Okay, a lot freaked-out now," she amended. "But I _promise you_ ….if you trust me—" she lifted his chin to look him in the eyes—"if you trust me, I swear to you, Henry, it will all make sense. Deal?"

Henry hesitated, then nodded.

"Okay, then," Regina smiled. "Now… pick up that book—oh, don't look at me like that, Henry, I'm not going to throw it at you. I just want you to flip through it, okay?"

"It's not going to—"

"Henry Mi—er, Swan, you are thirteen years old, I am….more than that, you _will_ do what I say." She fixed him with her sternest I-am-your-mother-do-not-sass-me-look.

Henry looked at her for a long time. "Okay," he sighed in resignation, bending down to retrieve the book. "I'm opening it…and nothing's happening." He flipped through the pages. "Flipping through pages…flipping through pages…and….oh! I was right! Nothing's happening," he finished flatly.

"Are you reading them?"

"Yes," he said. Regina arched an eyebrow, the same look she gave him when he tried to get away with Googling his homework. He hung his head. " _Fine._ "

He opened to the beginning of Snow and David's story. She read over his shoulder, resisting the urge to stroke his hair… which was getting too long. Why in the name of God did Emma let him walk around like this?

 _The bandit Snow White was perched high in the tree, smiling down at what looked to be a very royal, very rich carriage. At the fallen log it stopped, falling right into her trap._

Regina pursed her lips, reading the story, noting it was not shy about referring to her as "evil", and "twisted", and.…"mentally ill"? _Mentally ill? Are you serious? Mentally ill?_

"Okay!" she said with forced cheerfulness, flipping the pages. "Maybe a different story!"

"But I was—"

"Different story!" she said loudly. "Here… read this one," she said, after checking to make sure she wasn't in it.

Henry frowned down. "Rumplestiltskin and Captain Hook?" He looked at her dubiously. "I have _never_ heard of this story before. Are you sure this book is—?"

"Learning is fun, Henry," she said impatiently. "Just read it, okay? You'll like it. It's got pirates and sword-fights and revenge and—"

"And really dirty jokes," Henry said, blinking. "Wow. That is a _detailed_ punchline."

Regina's eyes widened, finding the line Henry was enjoying a little _too_ much for her comfort. "Hook," she swore in a low voice, taking the book from him. "No—Henry, do _not_ look at that page!" she said, frantically turning away from him. "Uh…oh! Here we go! Read this one. It's about Bo Peep."

"Bo Peep?" he repeated taking the book from her.

"Yeah," she said, relaxing. What could be more innocent that Bo Peep?

"Do you mean Bo Peep, the ruthless slave driver and warlord?" Henry frowned. Regina craned her neck, leaning forward incredulously. Neal made a face. _What?_ he mouthed.

 _Warlord?_ she mouthed back.

"This is weird," Henry remarked, not looking up.

"Keep reading, Henry. I'm going to go….get a coffee." She passed Neal, who muttered, "Bo Peep the warlord? Seriously?"

"Right?" she agreed, rolling her eyes. "Watch him," she added sternly. "Do _not_ let him read anything Hook has lines in."

As she made her way toward the coffee machine, she felt her phone vibrate. She swore, rummaging in her purse. _If Robin is calling to ask me if it hurt when I fell from Heaven, I swear to God…_ She fished her phone out and looked at the screen. It was a text from Belle: _Hook sucks at texting, so I'm sending you a back-up: they found Zelena, they've got her in a cell. Bring Henry, be there in twenty._

"Well, I'm only bringing Henry if he remembers, okay? Okay," she said, giving her phone unnecessary attitude. Sometimes Belle could be….just _such_ a—

Her phone buzzed again, and she looked down at Hook's "text": _zlenb na cfjj brg hdnry na 20._ She stared at it for a minute. "I _knew_ he couldn't read."

"Regina?" She turned and saw Emma standing behind her.

"Emma, where have you been?" she demanded. "How long can it take to get a cup of coffee? What's so hard? You take a cup, you push a button—coffee!"

"It takes longer when you need to ask the cute male nurse how to work the machine," Emma said, taking a sip. Regina stared at her in disgust. Emma looked up, wiping the foam off her lip.

"What?"

"You're a slut."

Emma shrugged, not disagreeing. "So, what's that?" she said, nodding toward the phone.

"They've got Zelena locked up, they want us to meet them there in twenty minutes. With Henry. _I know_!" she said as Emma looked up incredulously.

"Do they know he doesn't have his memories yet?"

"Well, I'm working on it, but if he doesn't, they're just going to have to deal with Zelena on their own," Regina said decisively. "I'm not leaving until my son remembers me."

"How's it coming along?" Emma asked sympathetically. "Any progress?"

"He's flipping through the book. I'm hoping it will jog his memories or snap something in place, but getting a teenager to believe in magic…?" Regina shook her head. "I mean, it was cute when he was ten, but he's, what, fourteen now?"

"Yeah, but isn't he the…" Emma struggled to remember. "Truest…heart…thingy?"

"Heart of the truest believer?"

"That's the one!" Emma snapped her fingers.

"I don't know how much help that's going to be," Regina mused. "Especially after Neal gave him post-traumatic stress disorder." She glanced at Emma's confused expression. "He's been throwing the book at him and yelling."

Emma closed her eyes. "I _told_ him to stop that, he's going to give that kid a concussion!" she said through clenched teeth, stalking off. "Neal!"

"Emma, this is _impossible!_ " Neal said frustratedly. Regina counted to ten silently before following Emma back into the room.

Henry was still holding the book open, but he didn't look any more enlightened as he stared at Emma and Neal arguing over whether or not throwing the book constituted child abuse. Regina sighed and went over to sit by him.

"You doing all right, kiddo?" she asked, lightly hitting his arm.

Henry looked at her hopelessly. "I am so confused," he said, shaking his head. "A week ago, I was living in New York with a normal mother and—"

"I swear to God, Henry, if you start talking about how great New York is, I am going to slam my fist into Emma's temporal lobe!"

Henry closed his mouth, his eyes widening. "Okay…." he swallowed. "Never mind."

"No—I didn't mean— _ugh._ " Regina put her head in her hands. "I'm sorry," she said finally. "It's not fair of me to push you like this. I gave you those fake memories, I should just be thankful they worked as well as they did."

"Fake memories?"

"Never mind, Henry," she sighed. "Sit tight. I have to talk to Neal and Emma about something." She looked down at him tiredly. He looked more lost than he had when she'd tried to explain mixed fractions to him. "I'll be back in sec."

Neal and Emma were still bickering under their breath when Regina came over.

"I can't believe you actually threw it—"

"I was trying to get him to remember—"

"He's not going to remember anything every again if you give him brain damage, Neal!"

"Well, _excuse_ me, but one of us had to—"

"Hey. Shitheads." Regina looked at them disdainfully, not even blinking as they turned to glare at her.

"Jesus, Regina, don't hold back," Neal said sourly.

"I want to ask Rumple for a memory potion," Regina said to Emma, folding her arms. Emma raised her eyebrows.

"You mean, like the one Hook gave me?"

"No," Regina said, the sarcasm almost tangible. "The _other_ memory potion."

Emma's eyebrows rose higher. "Pardon _me_."

"I don't think we're going to get anywhere with the book. He could memorize the damn thing, he's not going to remember." Regina took a deep breath. "We'll bring him to the station and ask Rumple for a potion. Everyone can play along for five minutes, and if we need to—I'm not opposed to locking Hook in a closet."

"Nor am I," Neal said under his breath.

"You think we're going to get Zelena to cooperate? She doesn't care whether or not Henry has memories or not, she's not going to give a shit how confused he is." Emma folded her arms. "Maybe we should just try a little longer—"

"No." Regina brushed invisible dust off her coat. "He's my son, and it's time he remembered that. I think Neal will agree with me." She raised her eyebrows, prodding him. Neal looked at Emma sheepishly, scratching his ear.

"Yeah, I'm….I'm going to have to side with Regina on this one."

Emma looked betrayed. " _Neal!_ "

"Look, I'm sorry, but she's right." He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at the floor. "Let's bring Henry to my dad and get his memories back. Then we can figure out what to do with Zelena—"

"And put this ridiculous New York obsession to rest," Regina finished. Emma looked between the two of them, stubbornly setting her chin.

"We'll get him the potion. That's all I'm agreeing to right now. We can talk about New York later." She stalked off, pausing to say a few words to Henry.

Neal and Regina rolled their eyes at each other before following them out the door. _New York._


	8. Chapter 8

To say he was confused was the understatement of the century.

One minute, he was sitting there, looking at the book that the guy with silvery brown hair kept throwing at him; the next, his mom had grabbed his hand, speaking at top-speed about things like "jail" and "witch" and "memories"; now, he was standing in the sheriff's station, looking at the odd assortment of people before him, all of whom were staring back.

There was the pretty lady with black hair, the one who had sat with him in the hospital; the short blonde lady was staring at the silvery guy standing next to her, having a muttered conversation with the short, older man with inquisitive eyes; there was a tall blonde man with his arm around a kindly-looking black-haired woman, both of whom were smiling at him in a very strange way; there was the bizarrely-dressed man with dark hair, having what looked to be a silent argument with the short brunette with bright blue eyes beside him. In the jail cell, there was a tall pretty red-haired woman with terrifyingly wide, clear eyes.

"Mom?" he whispered, nudging her without taking his eyes off them. "Mom, who are these people?"

"Not now, Henry," she said. That's all she ever said now.

She went over to them and started arguing with them in hushed tones. Henry caught little snippets of the conversation: "…took her talisman, Rumple said it's important…" and "think she bit me at some point, does this look infected?" All the while, the redhead smiled at him in a predatory way.

Henry shifted his gaze to his feet. She was starting to creep him out.

"Henry?" Emma looked at him cautiously. "There are some people I'd like you to meet."

He looked up. They were watching him carefully, as though he might shatter into glass any second. "Who, them?" he said, nodding toward them. "Why? Are they your posse?"

"Sort of," she shrugged. "They've been helping me with the case." She gestured for the short man to step forward. "This is Mr. Gold. He's going to keep an eye on you for a little while."

Henry immediately held out his hand. "I'm Henry."

"You know who I am," Gold said, shaking his hand. "How'd you like to see my shop?"

"Actually, I'd rather stay with my mom, if you don't mind," he replied, giving his mother a significant look. She guiltily shifted her eyes away.

"I do mind, Henry. I mind very much," Gold said, placing his hands behind his back.

"Look, Mr. Gold. I don't know you, so I'd really rather—"

"Great!" he said brightly, hooking his arm around Henry's elbow and yanking him toward the exit. Henry staggered backward, surprised at his strength.

"Mom?" he said in alarm.

"Trust me, Henry, Mr. Gold will take good care of you," she said earnestly. "He's an old friend of mine."

"That's right, Henry, we're great friends," Gold said cheerfully, tugging him out the door. "That makes you and me friends-in-law."

Gold kept chattering, keeping a firm hold on Henry as they walked out the sheriff's station, down the main road, and into a shop with a sign that read: MR. GOLD'S PAWNSHOP. He released his grip on Henry, but didn't stop talking, even as he started opening cupboards and rummaging through them.

"…don't really know why they thought that would be a good ending. I used to love _How I Met Your Mother,_ but it really took a wrong turn with the whole Robin-Barney-Ted- situation. I mean, love triangles are so _silly_ , you know? That was bad enough, but then they made the mother _die?_ What? Why did they have to give it such a stupid ending? The entire series, he's looking for her, and then we find out she's been dead the whole time? That's the worst twist—ah! Here we go!" He slammed a tiny vial on the table, beaming at Henry triumphantly. "Go on, drink up."

Henry took a step back. "Yeah, no, I don't think so."

"Come on, Henry," Gold urged. "It's just, uh…I dunno, what do kids like?" he muttered to himself. "It's Pepsi."

Henry looked dubiously at the blue liquid inside the vial. "It looks radioactive."

"It's Xtreme Pepsi."

"Yeah, I'm not drinking anything that—that looks like that." He'd been about to say _anything you give me, because I'm fairly certain you're few fries short of a full Happy Meal_ , but something told him Mr. Gold would not take that well.

"You are a _stubborn_ boy, aren't you?" Gold said, his teeth clenching in his smile.

Henry smiled back tensely, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm a teenager. I'm rebelling against authority."

"Gotta love teenagers," Gold said, his smile sagging into more of a grimace. He began walking around the shop, muttering to himself again. "Won't believe in the book, won't drink the damn potion…goddamn, I liked this kid a lot better when he was ten."

"What are you _talking_ about?" Henry said bemusedly, shaking his head. "Are you actually insane? Potion? When I was ten? What's going on? Why does my mom keep leaving me with crazy people?"

"Because crazy people are a riot, Henry," Gold scoffed, as if it should have been obvious. Henry backed up further.

"You're scaring me."

"I have that effect on people," he shrugged. He picked up the vial. "All right, look—I didn't want to do this, but you leave me no choice." He strode toward him, too fast for Henry to think and back out of the way, and grabbed his nose.

"What are you _doing?_ " Henry thrashed about, his voice sounding very nasal. Gold frowned, trying to keep his grip.

"I need you to drink this," he said through gritted teeth. "Stop squirming!"

"You're a crazy person!" Henry shouted, trying to pry his fingers off his nose, but his grip was too strong. And god _damn,_ it hurt. His eyes were watering in pain. It was by far the most bizarre way anyone had ever assaulted him.

Henry was forced to his knees, and then somehow, Gold managed to force his head back. "Open your mouth!" he ordered, pressing the tip of the vial against his tightly shut lips. Henry shook his head furiously. "Henry, open up! Don't make me do that airplane bullshit!"

Henry shook his head again, feeling like his lungs were going to burst.

"You gotta breathe sometime, Henry!" Gold said. And he was right. Finally, Henry couldn't take it anymore: he opened his mouth a crack, just to sneak a breath—and Gold tipped the contents into his mouth, forcing his head back so he'd have to swallow.

"Gah! What was—?"

Henry felt a horrible jolt in the pit of his stomach, and a hurricane of colors and sounds exploded in his brain. Memories, impossible memories, swirled in his head, flashing behind his eyes, forcing out the false New York memories. Faces flowed, blurring together, but still distinguishable: his mom, Regina—God, he'd missed her so much!; his father, Neal—his favorite person in the world, how could he have forgotten him?; Gold—no, Rumplestiltskin, his grandfather, even him he missed!; Belle—sweet Belle, good, sweet Belle; his grandparents, David and Snow—oh, God, them too, he had missed them so!; Hook—…meh, moving on; Tink—funny, spunky Tink, half-crazed, obsessed with pixie dust, he missed her eccentricities! And he remembered the magic, the stories, Neverland, the curse, everything! He was Henry Mills, the adopted son of the Evil Queen, grandson to Snow White and Prince Charming, son of the Savior and Rumplestiltskin's son.

He looked up, his knees knocking together. Rumple stared down at him quizzically. "Grandpa?"

His expression cleared. "Oh, _good,_ it was the right one after all!"

"Excuse me?" he asked, as Rumple helped him to his feet.

"Nothing, nothing." Rumple batted a dismissive hand.

"What was that, 'right one after all', what does that mean?"

"Well…" Rumple scratched the back of his head uneasily. "Sometimes, the labels peel off and I don't always know what something is….Usually there's a rat or something around, so I can test it—"

"A _rat?_ " Henry squawked.

"Yeah, I don't keep the cleanest shop."

"You used me as a rat?" Henry stared at him in disbelief. Rumple offered him an apologetic smile.

"In my defense…it looked an awful lot like the memory potion. And I turned out to be right, so no harm done, eh?"

"No harm done?" Henry repeated incredulously. "You—you could have turned me into a frog or something, _no harm done?_ "

"Why in the _hell_ would I have a potion that would turn someone into a frog?" Rumple asked the ceiling. "That is the _silliest_ thing I've ever—no. Wait. I take it back. Silliest thing I ever heard was that Bo Peep was a warlord."

"Right?" Henry said as they turned to walk out of the shop. "That was the strangest thing…"


	9. Chapter 9

**SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG, BUT I WAS MOVING, AND IT WAS A THING, AND WI-FI IS A BITCH TO GET HOOKED UP, SO I'M IN A LIBRARY DOING THIS. I'M SORRY, PEOPLE.**

Zelena sighed, mournfully gazing out the window. The cot in the holding cell was extremely uncomfortable: the blanket was itchy, the pillow flat, and the mattress's lumbar support was shit. Not to mention, she was _bored._

Even though they had confiscated her talisman, the source of all her magic, they still didn't trust her alone: she always had to have a supervisor. At the moment, it was Hook's shift. She watched him run his fingers through his hair, sweeping it from side to side, using the window's reflection as a mirror.

"Zelena," he frowned, still primping, "you're a woman…"

Zelena raised her eyebrows dryly. "You caught me."

Hook turned to face her. "Can I get your opinion on something?"

She shrugged. "Shoot."

"Okay, does my hair look sexier pushed to the right—"he combed it to the right—"or to the left?" He pushed it to the left. "Right?…Or left?"

Zelena tilted her head. "Let me see to the right again?"

Hook swept his hair to the right again. She nodded slowly, considering.

"Okay, show me the left again?"

He obliged. Zelena frowned, thinking.

"I gotta go….right,"she said finally. "Right is definitely sexier."

"Thanks."

It had been a week since they'd caught her in the farmhouse and trapped her in the cell. That stupid fairy had crash-landed right on top of her (nearly shattered her ribcage, thanks very much) and pinned her down so the prince could cuff her and drag her unceremoniously into the truck.

When Henry had walked into the station, she had seen the way Regina instinctively reached for him then held herself back. _Good,_ she thought, smiling nastily. Regina's unhappiness was her happiness…even though on a personal level, she quite liked Regina. But no! The principle was that Regina had gotten everything Zelena deserved, and she hated her for that!… Except, she was also a pretty cool chick, what a great sister, really, so sassy and funny, really smart, she was so proud of—NO. Ugh! Damn this internal conflict!

So, battling her inherent sisterly affection for Regina, Zelena had forced herself to take interest in something else. During the first Zelena-guarding-shift (Belle had drawn the shortest straw), she was introduced to _shipping._ It was a mysterious pastime, in which one would actively root for a particular couple's progress. It had seemed strange at first, but Zelena found, she was actually quite fond of it. It was fun, and before long, it had awakened in her a strange passion, a bizarre dedication to her chosen couple: Emma and Hook, who she was delighted to discover, was also called "Captain Swan."

Belle, for her part, was indecisive: she had a tally for each man for every victory they had in their pursuit of Emma, and in her opinion, Neal was pulling ahead. Zelena had tossed her head and snorted so loudly, several birds flew off the window sill. It was so obvious that Captain Swan would win out, and she said as much. Belle had laughed derisively, and from there, the shipping battle was born and Belle was no longer allowed to supervise.

Having had her evil plan thwarted, Zelena now had a new scheme (she always had to have a scheme, it was her thing): to make Captain Swan canon. Swanfire would rue the day it walked into her town!…even though she was still new here, but never mind that! Captain Swan was endgame!

That little Henry shit disagreed, that was much was clear. The minute he had walked into the station with his newly returned memories, his eyes fell on Hook and he glowered. He did not want the man (who was CLEARLY Emma's one true love, as was plain to Zelena) to be with his mother. He preferred Swanfire: just because, _ooh,_ his parents would be together; and _ooh,_ they were incredibly cute with their little banter, yes even Zelena had to admit that; and _ooh,_ they had that whole Tallahassee thing, that was friggin' adorable; and _ooh,_ Emma had said she'd always love him in 3x06's Echo Caves (even though, Zelena was well aware of what went on in 3x05, thank YOU!); and _ooh,_ they both had that thing about being abandoned—

"ENOUGH!" she shouted, covering her ears against the Swanfire arguments in her head. Hook looked around bewilderedly.

"You all right?"

"Never better, hon," she said, smiling sweetly. He raised his eyebrows, nodding slowly, and turned back to sharpening his hook…why he was doing that, she wasn't sure, but damn it, if he didn't look mad sexy doing it!

Zelena sighed heavily. "So," she said, draping her arms through the bars, "how are things?"

"Mmm," Hook said, squinting one eye shut as he held out his hook for appraisal, "kinda dull, now that we've defeated you. There's not a whole lot to do around here when the villains aren't terrorizing us."

"Us?" Zelena perked up, her shipper-senses tingling. "So, you don't consider yourself a villain anymore? You're on your road to redemption? You're going to change for the woman you love, until she realizes she loves you back and would go to the ends of the earth if it meant you were at her side?"

Hook looked at her with wide eyes, blinking. "Uh…. _sure,"_ he said slowly.

"I knew it!" Zelena said triumphantly. "You love Emma, don't you? Go on! Tell me you love Emma! Go on, say it, I know you love her, you romantic bastard! Go on! Say you love her!"

" _Love_ her?" Hook repeated, raising his eyebrows. "It's a bit early for that, isn't it?"

Zelena looked at him incredulously. "It's _true love!_ " she said in a shrill voice. "You went to New York to save her, to bring her back!"

"Oh, that." Hook turned back to sharpening his hook. "Well, yeah, I mean, Emma's superhot and everything, but let's take it easy with the 'true love' stuff."

"Come on, man, you're _killing_ me!" Zelena whined, sagging against the bars. "I'm telling you, it's true love! Look how many parallels there are between you two and Snowing!"

"Huh?"

"Snow and Charming! _DUH!_ " Zelena said frustratedly. "You know, it's a good thing you're pretty, because you're kind of a dumbass."

Hook shrugged. "I get that a lot."

Zelena felt guilty. How could she say that to the better half of her OTP (because, if she was going to be honest, Hook was really the reason why she shipped Captain Swan as hard as she did, no one in their right mind could say with a straight face that Neal and Emma didn't belong together)? She couldn't say anything bad about him—ever. In fact, she should be making up good shit about him, giving him qualities and backstories he didn't have, just to make up for what an asshole he was in season two, and to compete with what a decent human being Neal was. But how? No one in Storybrooke would believe her because 1) she was the current antagonist in the town, even though her diabolical plan had been shot to hell and 2) pretty much everyone thought Hook was an asshole.

There had to be some community, somewhere, where she could discuss the imaginary good qualities of her ship… where she could bask in the endless love that was Captain Swan, living vicariously through her daydreams. Maybe in the next town, maybe in the next country…. but somewhere, there had to be a place where she could fawn over the sickeningly sappy—er, _romantic—_ story of Captain Swan, and trash the overwhelming adorableness—no, _stupidity—_ of Swanfire.

But where….?

 **SO YEAH, ZELENA'S GONNA GET INTO FAN-FICTION. WHY? BECAUSE. BECAUSE SHE CAN.**


	10. Chapter 10

**I KNOW, IT'S NOT REALLY FOLLOWING A PLOT LINE, BUT I JUST NEEDED TO PARODY SOME FANFIC. AND HEAD'S-UP, THERE WILL BE MORE CHAPTERS LIKE THIS, BECAUSE I ALREADY WROTE THEM AND THEY'RE SCATTERED AROUND MY DESKTOP. I'LL TRY TO FIGURE OUT A PLOT, SOON.**

Belle dropped her keys on the desk on top of a stack of papers and files, all of which looked very important and boring. She glanced toward the cell, where Zelena was perched on her neatly-made bed, scribbling away.

"Morning," she said awkwardly. Zelena looked up, and furiously put a finger to her lips.

Belle blinked. "What?"

Zelena impatiently beckoned her closer. Warily, Belle obeyed. "The love birds are fighting," Zelena said in a loud whisper, pointing toward Emma's office. Belle glanced over: Emma appeared to be explaining something rather forcefully to a bewildered Hook. "It's giving me _great_ inspiration for my fan-fiction!" Zelena said delightedly, going back to her notepad.

Belle raised an eyebrow. "Fan-fiction?"

The door opened, cutting off Zelena's answer. Belle looked toward Emma and Hook, both of whom looked very calm for supposedly feuding love birds. "Hey… everything okay?" she asked cautiously.

Emma frowned. "Yeah. Why?"

"Well, Zelena said—"

"Oh, my God!" Hook said exasperatedly as Emma hit her head against the wall.

"Guys?" Belle said, looking bemusedly between the two of them. "What's going on?"

"She's been reading that crap out loud all morning!" Hook exclaimed, throwing his hand in Zelena's direction. "Never mind that poor Henry will _never_ be the same again, but she's actually made it impossible for me to face my own reflection!" He dropped his hand, fuming. "And that's, like, my second favorite thing to face!"

"We had to go in my office because she wouldn't shut up," Emma said miserably, still banging her head against the wall. Belle wrinkled her nose.

"Do I want to know what you guys were talking about that you had to go to a private setting?"

"All I said was, 'Hook, you can't keep walking around dressed like that, people are starting to talk'."

"And then all _I_ said was, 'Jesus, Emma, stop trying to control me, this is how I express myself'."

"And then she started saying—"

"'What happens when personal shopper Emma Swan is assigned to help rich bachelor Killian Jones find a new wardrobe?'" Zelena read aloud from her notepad. Emma resumed hitting her head, and Hook looked pleadingly toward the sky, mouthing, _Why, God, why?_ "'Can they learn to get along? Or will they discover—?'"

"Okay! Things I do _not_ need to hear, thank you!" Belle said loudly. "Hook, hon—no offense, but I don't think we should talk for a while. Emma—put Henry through intensive therapy."

"Oh, that was just the tip of the iceberg," Emma said darkly. "Henry's going to need more than therapy. He's going to have to develop a drinking problem to get through this."

"A drinking problem?" Zelena repeated, intrigued. She started scribbling furiously. "Emma Swan is a recovering alcoholic! Who is the tall, dark, and mysterious stranger she meets at the AA meetings? Can they learn to get along? Or will they—?'"

"Stop _talking_!" Hook begged, falling to his knees. "Please! Before I _kill_ myself!"

Zelena gasped. "That's _brilliant_!" she said, scrambling for a new sheet. "'Killian Jones thought his life was without meaning until he meets grief counselor, Emma Swan! Can they learn to get along? Or will they—?'"

"SHUT UP!" the three of them shouted.

Zelena looked highly offended. "I am a _writer._ "

"No! You're not!" Emma said, throwing her hands up.

"I can't believe you exposed _Henry_ to this, he's just a child!" Belle said, horrified.

"Oh, do you think that was bad?" Hook said. "You should have heard _the Captain Swan Believer slumber party where they all dance through the house and eat cookie dough together_!"

"It's cute!" Zelena said defensively.

"It's _weird_."

"I still think the creepiest one is…" Emma looked at Hook meaningfully. " _That_ one."

Hook recoiled. "Well, don't _talk_ about it!" he snapped.

"Which one?" Belle asked, unable to help herself.

Neither of them spoke. They just avoided looking at each other, muttering awkwardly under their breath. Zelena looked between the two of them, obviously very annoyed.

"The Swan-Jones children," she told Belle, ignoring Emma and Hook covering their ears and complaining loudly. "Hope and Liam."

Belle felt her jaw unhinge. "The _what_?"

"I've written a series of one-shots about the Swan-Jones children, Hope and Liam." Zelena smiled down at her notepad as she flipped through it. "'Hope's First Day of School', that's a cute one…'Liam Learns to Walk', real tearjerker… 'Killian Reads Hope a Bedtime Story'—"

"Stop! Oh, my God, stop!" Emma pleaded. Hook said something about finding a rope to hang himself with.

"And my personal favorite," Zelena said, raising her voice to talk over them, "'Hope's First Father-Daughter-Dance.'"

"Oh, _God,_ I just threw up in my mouth," Belle gagged. "Remind me again why we didn't kill her?"

"Because _heroes don't kill_ ," Emma said, making a face as she mimicked her parents.

"I'm not a hero!" Hook said brightly. "I can kill her!"

Emma looked at Zelena, tilting her head. "It is _tempting…_ " She shook her head. "No, we can't. I have a kid, I have to set a good example."

Zelena made a noise of disgust. " _Henry,"_ she muttered. "Stupid little Swanfire brat."

Belle narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me, but are you dissing Swanfire? Are you dissing my boy, Neal? Because I _will_ take you down, I am _not_ afraid to reach through those bars—"

"Hey, hey," Hook said, taking her by the arm and peering down at her in concern. "Calm down, Australia."

Belle blinked a few times. "I-I'm sorry, I don't want came over me," she stammered.

"It's all right," he reassured her, patting her head. "But you know what?"

"Hmm?"

He smiled sweetly. "If anyone's going to kill that bitch, it's going to be me."

"Oh."

"You know why?"

"Uh—"

"I had to give up my three-hundred-year-old revenge quest. Which means, I wasted three centuries. For nothing. So my life has been worthless." He leaned closer, his teeth still bared in a smile. "This is my consolation prize. Do you understand?"

"Hook," Emma said warningly. "We're _not_ killing her."

Hook closed his eyes, clenching his teeth. "I don't know _what_ I ever saw in her," he growled.

"She's hot?" Belle suggested uncertainly. Hook opened his eyes, a look of dawning comprehension on his face.

"Oh, yeah… Shit, I'm shallow."


	11. Chapter 11

**I just wanted to apologize for the lack of updates on this one. I'm still working on it, it's just that i've got a few other fanfics going that i'm really feeling right now, and i'm a little stuck on this one. plus i have annoying things like college to worry** **about, so my time is a little short. i PROMISE, i'll update eventually. don't know when, i just want to reassure anyone who was really enjoying this that this fanfic is not dead.**

 **i'm sorry, guys. i'll try to get on it soon.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Holy shit, I haven't updated this in so long...**

Neal frowned down at the clipboard, leaning against the desk. He could feel Zelena's eyes watching him intently as he slowly pulled out a chair and dragged it in front of the cell.

"Okay, Zelena," he said, still skimming the interrogation questions Emma had scribbled down for him. "So, apparently, I'm the only one you'll talk to today." He looked up, raising his eyebrows. "Why is that?"

She smiled wryly at him, tapping her pen against her lips. "You've got questions for me, I've got questions for you." Her eyes gleamed. "Specifically _you._ "

Neal nodded as he sat backwards in the chair, resting his elbow on the back."All righty. Let's do this." He cleared his throat, glancing down at the paper. "Why were you so interested in David and Mary Margaret's baby?"

"It's an ingredient," Zelena said, smiling viciously. "For a spell I planned to enact. Now—"

"Oh, my _God,_ " Neal said in disgust, looking at her in disbelief. "That is _disgusting._ You're such a freak."

"Not like a _cooking_ ingredient," Zelena said defensively. "I wasn't going to mince it or anything."

"Mmm-hmm," Neal said, still looking at her suspiciously. "And what spell—"

"Buh-buh-buh-buh- _buh,_ " Zelena said, holding up a finger to shush him. "It's _my_ turn."

He twitched his mouth back and forth, reluctant to answer. "All right. Shoot."

Zelena grinned wickedly, leaning forward. "Did you ever abuse Emma?"

Neal's eyebrows shot up. " _Excuse me?_ "

"Did you ever hit her? Throw things at her? Toss her across the room?"

Neal's jaw dropped. "Why in the name of God would I do _any_ of that?" he said in horror. Zelena's smile faded in disappointment.

"Not once?"

" _No!_ "

"Not even just a little—"she pinched her fingers together—" _eensy beensy_ clonk on the head?"

"Of _course_ I didn't!" Neal said, shocked by the accusation.

"Never had to straighten her out, remind her who's boss?"

"Are you _high?"_

Zelena slumped in her seat. "Damn," she said glumly. "I was hoping you could help me with my fanfiction."

"Your fanfiction?" Neal repeated, hoping he had misheard.

"I wanted to write something really _authentic._ " She frowned, tapping the pen against her lips thoughtfully. "I suppose I _could_ just try to make it up, but I'd've loved to have a real experience to write from…"

"Okay, _one,_ you sound really pretentious right now; and _two,_ what the _fuck_ is wrong with you?" Neal stared at her with wide, horrorstruck eyes. "You're actually disappointed I didn't physically abuse an innocent woman?"

"I'm a _writer,_ Neal!" Zelena snapped.

"You're not, but okay."

"I need to give my work _life,_ I need to give it a _soul!"_ she said breathlessly, making dramatic gestures with her hands. "And in the piece I'm working on, Emma Swan is tragically abused by her boyfriend, Neal, until her knight in shining armor comes in the form of social worker, Killian Jones, who is haunted by his childhood memories of his alcoholic father!"

Neal cocked his head to the side, his mouth opening to ask a question, when he suddenly remembered the paper in his hands. He shook his head, trying to clear. "Okay, so _that_ is disturbing on _so_ many different levels, but we got to keep rolling. So, you want to tell me what that spell you were working on is?"

"Oh, that doesn't matter anymore, Neal! I'm over that!" Zelena snapped. "I've got a new plan—a _better_ plan!"

"Oh?" Neal raised his eyebrows. "Well, you want to tell me about it?"

"I don't, but I will," she sniffed, lifting her chin. "Because I'm not worried. I _will_ bring this town to its knees, and there's nothing you can do to stop it… _Nealfire._ "

"'S'cuse me?"

"Nealfire, your name is Nealfire!" she said impatiently. "It's a mixture of 'Baelfire' and 'Neal', you simpleton!"

"But..my name is Neal—"

"UGH!" Zelena threw her head back exasperatedly. "You are impossible! I don't know _what_ Emma sees in you!"

Neal shrugged. "I'm adorable?"

"True," she admitted grudgingly. "But that's not going to matter for much longer."

"And why is that?" Neal asked, leaning forward in his seat. "What makes you so sure?"

Zelena's eyes gleamed. "Because war is coming to Storybrooke," she hissed. "I will crush every opposition in my path, I will slaughter every man, woman, and child who dares defy me! Captain Swan will _RISE—!_ " she lifted her fist in the air, her voice ringing out— _"_ And Swanfire will _fall._ "

Neal crinkled his brow. "I don't know _what_ you're talking about," he said, shaking his head. "What's a swan fire?"

"I'm talking about the shipping wars, you fool!" Zelena gripped the bars, baring her teeth at him. "'Captain Swan' is Emma and Hook, 'Swanfire' is you and Emma, and the war is coming! Prepare yourself, _Nealfire—_ " she spat the name like it was poison—"for the Age of Captain Swan is coming! Your sun will set, and his star will rise! You will—!"

"Okay," Neal sighed, getting up from his chair. "You've gone off the deep end."

"Heed my warning, _Nealfire!_ " she shouted after him. "I have ways! I may be trapped in this cell, but I will raise such passion, such _fury,_ you don't even know! I have _fan fiction,_ you foolish man! _Fan fiction!_ It will incite such rage and passion, you will rue—"

"Awesome, that sounds really cool," Neal said over her, opening the door. "So, listen, I'm going to tell everyone you're a crazy bitch—"

"OLD NEWS!"

"Well, then, I'm just going to tell them that you're _still_ a crazy bitch." Neal gave her a tight smile. "Take care, now."

"I WILL MAKE YOU MISERABLE!" she screamed after him. "YOU WILL HEAR MY FAN FICTION, AND YOU WILL CRUMBLE BENEATH ITS AWESOMENESS AND THE TRUE LOVE OF CAPTAIN SWAN! _YOU WILL RUE THE DAY, NEALFIRE! YOU WILL RUE THE DAY!"_


End file.
